


Pretty in Pink (and Yellow, and Red)

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Xing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the Princess of the Chang Clan and the Emperor's head of guard can be rather enervating. With Xing safely in the hands of the Emperor taking a nap, Lan Fan and May wander off for some quality girl time. Of course, knowing them . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty in Pink (and Yellow, and Red)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted more Lan Fan. My best friend wanted more May Chang. I compromised. See how far friendship can get you?
> 
> Set in Xing sometime post-Promised Day. Ling claimed May as heiress presumptive to the Xingese throne, per my headcanons.
> 
> Two things I need more of: FMA femslash and FMA female friendships. Especially between women of colour. Or transwomen. Or something. Can we. Can we have more of these things. Please. [tips his hat and vanishes]

“Which one is your favourite?”

“I guess I’m supposed to say that I prefer Chang pink, but you can _really_ get tired when everything’s the same exact colour all the time. Mm, I’ll take the red one. It’s good luck; it belongs to no Clan; and it’s befitting of she who will become the next Empress, wouldn’t you say?”

Lan Fan folded her arms across her chest. “You speak as if the Emperor is incapable of having children.”

Hooking a forefinger into the colourful crimson curl of the ribbon, May flicked her wrist up. The fabric rippled and struck taut as it caught around her finger, and the kunai landed neatly into her palm. From her position on the table resplendent with varying throwing knives and alkahestry points in colours spanning the Fifty Clans and beyond, Xiao-Mei nosed the blade in May’s hand. She yipped when she poked her nose against the sharp edge, scrabbling at herself with her tiny paws. The two women laughed. Lifting the panda’s paws away from her nose, May inspected the supposed injury and sighed plaintively; Lan Fan responded with another laugh, low and long, the rumbling of a storm somewhere off the horizon bringing the sweet-scented promise of spring rain. “I speak as if I know exactly who Ling is,” May corrected cheerfully, “and he’s the sort of idiot that won’t have anyone if he can’t have you, and since you’re being perfectly blind to his advances, the greedy prince is ending up with zilch.” She grinned.

Lan Fan selected a kunai affixed with a band of bright gold as opposed to the usual black. Flashing the blade a tad too close to the still-recovering Xiao-Mei, she sent the panda skittering to the other edge of the table. “You should be most careful, Princess Chang. Such talk is worthy of treason.”

“Lan Fan, I’m pretty sure that Ling would laugh his fool head off if he heard what we saying.” May indicated the targets with a quick motion of her head, her coiled side-braid rustling against her hair. “You wanna go first? Winner gets to pick her horse first.”

“May the best woman win.” As she bowed to the Princess, Lan Fan glanced up at the tiny painted flower petals on the side of the courtyard. The bright red stood out against the shades of green and brown comprising the rest of the forest-scene mural they had emblazoned along the wall several months ago. The court painters had gaped at the ugliness of the art; the court tailors had fumed at the splotches of multicoloured oil strewn over the diaphanous, opulent silks and well-crafted, expensive armour; and the women had gone out for _baijiu_ afterwards.

Although the targets remained stationary, the miniscule size and the gargantuan distance could make them a _bitch_ to hit. So when Lan Fan landed the first point of the session with a subtle bend of the elbow and a gaze locked upon a scarlet splash next to a sloppily painted blob meant to represent a bird, May broke into such wild applause that a startled Xiao-Mei promptly fell off of the table for the second time in as many minutes. “That’s the first time either of us has hit on the _first try_! How did you _do_ that?!”

Lan Fan shrugged. Faintly the corners of her lips tugged upwards, a half-moon smile as rare and radiant as the mark. “Perhaps red isn’t so lucky after all.”

May adjusted her grip on the kunai, tongue poking out in her concentration. She winked, and Lan Fan crossed her arms, bemused. “Or perhaps,” observed the Princess, the arc of the blade cleaving a trail of crimson through the skies, “that gave me the opportunity to demonstrate how just _lucky_ red can be.”


End file.
